Carver's Journey
by theRealSeal
Summary: The story of Carver's initiation into Kirkwall's Templar Order, as told from his point of view. Based on male mage Hawke and Carver's non-involvement in the Deep Roads story route. Chronological events from Dragon Age II.
1. Chapter 1

_The waiting ends now. I'm joining the templars of Kirkwall._

It was the only thought running through my head, despite mother's pleadings. But her desperate gestures and words against the contrary seemed only a small hindrance, for in this moment my ambition was greater than any nobleman's in this city.

"Please, Carver, don't do this - !" Mother begged.

"Mother, my brother informed me of my namesake," I replied, fastening the buckles on my newly acquired templar uniform gloves. "I ought to make it worth something."

"But we have come this far, surely there are other ways for you to make a difference!"

Suddenly the front door burst open, alarming even Gamlen, who had been drinking himself silly all this time. To our amazement, my brother sauntered into the living room as if he had become the viscount.

"Mother! We did it - !" he exclaimed happily, arms raised.

Upon seeing my uniform, his confident expression dropped into disgust.

"What are you doing in that? What's going on?" my brother asked.

"My boy, please talk some sense into your younger brother," Mother said sadly.

"What - ?"

"I've already made my decision," I declared.

"But being a templar is so dangerous!" Mother explained.

"Are you mad?! You'll join the templar order so you can become a slave to the Chantry?!" my brother retaliated.

"I'm no stranger to danger. And I'm tired of waiting around to be called at your whim. It is time for me to take my own path."

With that I stormed past the two of them, leaving my mother – who had collapsed at my brother's feet – and my family in the midst of the confusion. I did not bother to look back, for I never felt more important and proud of my name. Despite what my family thought, I knew I was going to make things right in the end.

My name is Carver Hawke, and this is the story of how I became a templar.


	2. Chapter 2

Had I known more of what being a templar entailed, I might have been more cautious. But despite my experience in the battlefield of Ostagar and my hard-won fortitude through months of training, my preparation became tested on the first day of initiation. On that frigid cold day of Kirkwall's winter season, I sat in the dark, damp barracks with my fellow new recruits, anxiously waiting what was to come next.

"Hey you, Carver is it?"

I looked up at the sound of the voice to see the familiar face of a mustached man, whose disposition reminded me of a squirrel ever wary of predators.

"I know you. You were with the mage refugee the day the templars had an investigation for the missing mages," he said. "My name's Paxley. Truthfully, I never thought I'd see you here."

"You know my name?" I asked.

"Of course," another recruit replied, this time a female with short brown hair and blue eyes. "You're not as subtle as you think. Not when you're associated with the most infamous refugee in Kirkwall."

"Hey, I know you too. You're Ruvena, right?" I said.

"So what if his brother's an apostate? Their survival odds are probably better than ours, given the rumors about Knight – Commander Meredith," Paxley said anxiously.

"Oh, will you stop with the whistle-blowing already; you've seen what happened to Hugh when you speak out against the Order!" Ruvena snapped.

"What happened?" I asked, curious.

"He was suspended, I think," Paxley replied, eyes wide. "And all he did was talk to others about his concerns!"

"So it's true. The Order only initiates the faithful," I said quietly.

"Recruits! Report to the field!" Ser Karras's booming voice echoed through the barracks as we scrambled to gather our equipment.

There were ten of us, lined up side by side in two rows against the wind. Despite the heaviness of the templar plate and the multiple layers of garment, I could still feel the icy chill pierce my skin, and for once I wished to put on a helmet. Ser Karras and Knight – Captain Cullen appeared before us. I noticed, in stark contrast to Ser Karras's unwavering expression, that Cullen looked weary, as if he was suffering from lack of rest.

"Good men and women of Kirkwall, you have chosen a path both revered and feared by many," Cullen announced assertively to our group as he paced back and forth. "The Templar Order has never been more deserving of skilled warriors such as you, and our order has stood the test of time as a worthy entity of protection against the forces of evil. We are both the guardians of the Divine and the messengers of the Maker's will. Although the path will not be easy, I assure you that given the proper commitment and sacrifice, you will be worthy of the title of knighthood."

There was a pause, as if to allow us to contemplate the weight of the Knight – Captain's words.

"Your physical training will occur each day before sunrise. Each morning you will study in the Chantry and recite the Canticles within the Chant of Light. By midday, you will report to the Circle and be assigned to your stations of duty, which include watch guard and floor sweeping –"

"_Floor sweeping?" _one of the male red-haired recruits gawked.

"Yes my good sir. Sweeping," Ser Karras answered, returning him a swift glare. "The Order is also responsible for caretaking of the Circle grounds, regardless of what you think of your former _entitlement_ or family background."

The recruit scoffed, but otherwise kept silent.

"Ground maintenance may seem like a chore compared to what others expect us to do, but it is necessary if we are to maintain awareness of suspicious magical activity," Cullen explained. "You must always be vigilant as a templar, both in and out of battle."

"Captain, we have leads on a suspect who may have captured the missing mages."

I turned to see a tall, broad-shouldered bald man approach Cullen, and I disliked the fellow the moment I saw him; he had cold, steely eyes and a countenance that suggested a man who insists on authority.

"My, such hasty attitudes from those barely initiated. Perhaps we should lengthen our restrictions," he said as he turned to look at our group.

"I believe that is my area of concern, Ser Alrik. Thank you for the information," Cullen replied, taking the sealed parchment letter from him. "As for now you are dismissed; return to your quarters if need be. Carver, I would like to speak to you personally."

My heart skipped, for I did not wish to be singled out on my first day. What could he possibly ask of me, a Fereldan refugee barely fresh off the boat and just trying to survive like everyone else in this city?

I watched the rest of the group disband and felt like a plucked nug squirming in the open. When everyone had gone, Cullen faced me and folded his arms.

"Carver, I do not condemn your decision to join us. But unfortunately your connections prompt my concern for your training and possible consequences," he said, raising an eyebrow.

"I do not understand, sir," I replied frankly.

"I have met and seen your brother. Despite the fact that he helped me tie this investigation to underground blood mages, I cannot ignore his status as an apostate. His magic is powerful and would certainly put even a squad of my own men to the test."

"My brother is a mage, yes, but I do not think he is dabbling in anything forbidden," I replied, not breaking my gaze.

Cullen sighed, and then relaxed his hands at his side.

"Very well. You know him best. Since you are going to be a templar, however, I expect you to follow our orders and abide by our ways – now more important than ever. No one is immune to consequences here; do not let your feelings impede your actions. Good luck."

I stood in the middle of the field and watched him walk away, numbed to the cold with mixed emotions. I saw flashbacks of Bethany shielding mother from the ogre, and us barely escaping the darkspawn horde; my brother had us run ahead as he bravely lagged behind, setting dozens of darkspawn aflame with a single sweep of his hand. Suddenly I was filled with guilt, and since I could not bear to reminisce any longer, I dragged myself to my quarters to rest for the night.


	3. Chapter 3

Ch. 3

I wrote a letter to mother the following day, explaining how things have been going well despite the surprises. Combat training was easier than I expected thanks to my experience fleeing the darkspawn, but the templar lieutenant Ser Karras did not appear unnerved like the rest of the recruits; I suspect he is not someone easily impressed.

I admit I did feel a little uptight at times, without old drunk Gamlen scrambling around or a nice warm hearth in my room. There is little room for argument, unlike when I had stayed in Lowtown, since the morning training frequently left me tired and sleepy following Grand Cleric Elthina's lectures in the Chantry (a rather convenient routine, I must say; we would get hit with a stick if caught napping). To say the least, the templar base just might be the most disciplined place in Kirkwall.

As the session ended, we gathered around the duty roster for our assignments.

"Blast, they have me in courtyard watch again," said the red-haired recruit I met earlier. "They must think it is fun staring at the grass and sky."

"At least you're not staring at people's faces all day," Ruvena retorted. "That's what I get for watching the mages during their lessons."

"So lil' knight Carver, what did you get?" asked another petulant recruit.

I flipped through the parchments until I found my name under "Harrowing Chamber".

"_Harrowing?"_ I said, confused.

"Ooooh, scary."

"Hmph. Why can't I do that instead," Ruvena muttered as she and the rest of the recruits walked away to their duties.

Before long I found myself lost within the Circle Tower. Despite asking four guards where the Harrowing Chamber was, I somehow managed to end up at dead ends and anywhere but the stairs leading to the top levels. Indeed, I was embarrassed enough not to ask for a map, especially when all the encouragement I ever received were mage students pointing and snickering at my direction.

Finally I stumbled upon Ser Thrask in a corridor.

"Oh, hello Ser Thrask," I greeted him, hoping I had caught him at a time of leisure.

"Ah, Carver, you have finally decided to join the Order. I hope your brother's influence did not have to do with your decision?" the old man replied, smiling.

"Wh – what do you mean?"

"Don't listen to the others. Your brother may be an apostate, but he is surely the most honest and good-willed mage I have ever met. Too many people fear mages for what they are, and often the consequences of such imposed isolation have been…dire."

He bowed his head as he said this, as if remembering a tragic loss.

"Is there anything I can help you with, lad?" he asked a minute later.

"Oh…well, I was just trying to get to the Harrowing Chamber – " I responded quickly, slightly caught off guard.

"The Knight – Captain must think favorably of your abilities to put you in such a callous position. But it is not my position to question; the Harrowing Chamber lies up the stairs just past the stockroom on the fourth floor."

"Thank you, Ser," I said, relieved.

"Maker watch over you, child."

I dared not ask him what my task for the afternoon involved, or why the name of my destination sounded so ominous. On the way to the stockroom, I caught sight of two mage students whispering behind a barrel of stock vials. Not noticing me, I slipped behind a statue to eavesdrop on their conversation.

"– I heard they got rid of Hugh, the other initiate, for speaking against the Knight – Commander…" the boy mage said.

"They're getting rid of their own, now? How daft can they be, when there are more mages than templars in this city?" the other female student replied.

"Who cares? So long as they keep this up we just might be free of their grasp – "

Deciding I had heard enough, I held my head up and stepped out quickly, continuing towards the stairs so as not to arouse suspicion of my act.

When I finally reached the top floor, I was greeted by a long hallway flanked with portraits of people I have never seen. Most appeared to be men in their later years, wearing embellished templar plates characteristic of Knight-Commanders. Was this a memorial?

The chamber itself was large, with a single stone pedestal situated in the middle. Although it was empty, there was an air of morbid unease, as if the silence was only a haunting illusion masking the reality of what occurred here.

When it was finally time for my assignment to begin, I watched as Knight – Captain Cullen, Ser Alrik, and a fearful, brown-haired girl entered the center of the massive chamber.

"Good. You made it on time," Cullen said. "Now we await the First Enchanter."

A tall, lean figure approached us from the entrance; as he drew closer, I knew from the distinct black robes and ornate staff that the wizened elf standing before us was the First Enchanter of Kirkwall's Circle.

"Orsino," Cullen nodded his head in respect. "This is Carver, one of our newest recruits. He has demonstrated considerable skill in his training and has been granted permission to aid us in this rite."

I could not take the suspense any longer.

"Excuse me, but what exactly are we going to do?" I asked.

"The Harrowing is a process all of our students must endure to become full – fledged mages," Orsino answered. "In this case, Miss Yvonne Selby will undergo her Harrowing today."

"The students' minds are sent into a particularly grueling part of the Fade, populated by demons and monsters. They are given one chance to survive…and remain un-possessed," Ser Alrik explained with a hint of unmistakable delight. "If they fail, we are responsible for the _sad _task of ending their lives."

"What? You would allow your students to be killed simply for not passing a mental check?" I responded heatedly.

"Becoming an abomination is one of the greatest dangers of being a mage. It is why we must only allow the most strong – willed apprentices to become a part of the Circle," Orsino said with a frown. "It is a task I cannot see often, for we spend many years training our students to become what they are. That said, I have no doubt they will succeed and pass."

"Alright Miss Selby, are you ready?" Cullen asked.

The girl looked up nervously, hands clenched together.

"I…don't know. I've done everything I can, prepared myself to the fullest…but I still feel scared, First Enchanter," she replied.

"All apprentices are on their first Harrowing. But I am confident that you will succeed," Orsino said encouragingly.

"Thank you, sir. I will try my best."

"Then let us begin," Cullen announced. "Carver, will you dutifully serve the Maker's will should the time present itself?"

I realized to my utter dismay that I had been tasked with delivering the killing blow. I had killed countless darkspawn and watched many of my comrades die in the field of battle, but no feeling can compare to what I was now to become: an executioner of mage apprentices who have not yet earned their place in the world.


	4. Chapter 4

Ch. 4

"Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him," Cullen recited as he placed the lyrium on the pedestal. "Magic is a gift, but also a curse. We templars of the Chantry stand vigilant and watchful to protect the Maker's light."

With that, the apprentice touched the lyrium and was instantly overcome by an invisible force so powerful that the very ground shook. Then, all was silent again as she collapsed at the foot of the pedestal.

"What now?" I asked, slightly shocked.

"We shall see," Ser Alrik replied.

The next two hours passed slower than a glacial drift. I wished more than ever to be back on watch duty, or even sweeping the floors of the library.

At last the lyrium gleamed suddenly, and an orb of light seemed to pass from it to the unconscious apprentice on the floor. My jaw dropped as I saw her slowly rise.

"Maker," I uttered.

"You have performed well, Yvonne," Orsino said to her, grinning happily. "Welcome to the Circle."

"It's…it's over?" she said hesitantly.

"Come, get some rest. We can celebrate later."

As Cullen, Yvonne, and Orsino prepared to leave, I relentlessly thanked the Maker for the outcome of the ritual. At the same time, I felt a tinge of distrust towards the templars that I had not felt before, as if I was starting to question their ways.

_No. They're fair, and would never slay an innocent. There would have to be a good reason, _I convinced myself angrily. _I'm not like Hugh and the others…_

But as Ser Alrik turned to speak to me, my doubts resurfaced. His cold, steely eyes met mine, and I knew that what was coming was not good.

"Sir Carver, you have come to your senses I see," he remarked. "I do not blame you; the Harrowing is a shocking first experience for everyone. But you do understand why mages are treated this way?"

I stood there, silent.

"Of course you do. Tell me, have you not experienced firsthand the horror inflicted when a demon possesses a mage?"

Now he was testing my patience.

"I've seen it, sir," I responded.

"Yes. A terrible experience. And to think that such possessed mages can do so much more, with their newfound power. They will stop at nothing; their thirst is unquenched. The allure of blood magic is greater than any temptation known. We are not all equal under the eyes of the Maker; that is why mages must not be given freedom."

As I nodded curtly and turned to leave, I caught a glimpse of Ser Alrik talking to Cullen about "escaped mages", and wondered what my next tasks would bring.


	5. Chapter 5

Ch. 5

Without bothering to write back to mother about my recent experience last week, I took my time dusting and wiping the shelves of the Circle's enormous library. There I found literature and lore of the strangest subjects, featuring the likes of _Monsters and the Fade, the Veil and the Beyond, _and _Circle Hierarchy. _

Although my body had become attuned to the routine of templar training, my mind was at unease. I did not know what manner of power pervaded my mind at the time of the Harrowing, but I felt like knowing better than to have doubted myself. Tests are a part of life; life is a survival of the fittest. And yet, my conscience seemed robbed of confidence when I felt the weight of the burden that was imposed on me during the ritual.

_Perhaps Cullen was right to question, _I thought. _I was letting my past feelings get in the way. I must let go._

At the behest of our assignment leader of the day, our group gathered around the entrance to our base in the Gallows.

"So, I heard you were assigned to the Harrowing the other night. How did it go?" Paxley asked curiously.

"It went fine. The mage passed," I replied, keeping my expression of confidence.

"We've seen an increase of activity regarding the Rite of Tranquility. It's like we're cracking down on every mage who looks at us wrong," Paxley commented quietly.

"It's our duty to make sure magic is contained. Have you not heard of the escaped mages from Starkhaven?" Ruvena added.

"There are more escaped mages?" I asked.

"The Circle of Starkhaven went through a bit of trouble – I suspect blood magic is involved – and unfortunately the mages' phylacteries were destroyed. With no way of tracking them down, the mages escaped; Ser Thrask was tasked with finding them, but I heard they all escaped," Ruvena said.

"I met Ser Thrask recently."

"Have you, Carver? Did he look frustrated? Anxious?"

"No. He did not appear to be busy."

"What in Andraste's flames is he doing away from the search? The Knight – Commander will have his hide. No one escapes her."

"Were she not so entangled in arguments with Orsino, I think she would have sent for the Rite of Annulment long ago," Paxley said.

We kept silent immediately upon seeing Ser Alrik approach and crossed our arms against our chests in the traditional templar salute.

"Lieutenant," we said.

"Why the surprise? Ser Emeric has been decommissioned due to…health issues. I will be leading your group for today's task," Alrik addressed us.

"We are ready, Ser," Ruvena answered.

"Good. Out of the rest of the recruits, you three have shown the most promise so far. I would hate to see such talent go to waste in menial tasks," he said, turning his gaze to me. "You three will assist me today in acquiring lyrium from several…merchants. You are to pay them the full sum for their services, and aid in the safe transport of the stock to our base. Am I clear?"

"There must be a lot of lyrium," Paxley added.

"There is enough to make the likes of the Coterie foolish with envy. Your skills in this task are invaluable. No mistakes."

"Yes, Ser," Ruvena replied. "We will get them transported safely in no time."

"Let us proceed then. I hate waiting," I said, taking the paper orders.


	6. Chapter 6

Ch. 6

We raided several underground tunnels beneath the Gallows, and as I had expected from my earlier excursions with my brother, the sewers were infested with Coterie, gangs and giant spiders. Acquiring the lyrium might have been easier had we not discovered the numerous dead bodies of lyrium smugglers; the stench of rotting spindleweed did not make our job any more exciting.

"Maker's breath, it's like they all died from a plague," Paxley commented while the three of us searched the bodies for any lyrium.

"We were right to pay the merchants extra for sending the shipments underground, but this is ridiculous," Ruvena stated. "Now how are we going to return with the purchases?"

"Maybe it's part of the test. We are responsible for bringing the lyrium back, no matter the cost."

"I doubt these smugglers were killed by natural elements alone," I said, examining the wounds of a smuggler assassin. "Look here, burn injuries…that other one's been frozen solid, but no signs of decay. It seems like someone – or some people – were here not too long ago."

I was hesitant to bring up the connection to magic, but I knew without a doubt that the smugglers had met mages in an unfortunate exchange.

"Blast, there's hardly any lyrium on them!" Paxley remarked. "We've only got four bottles. We're going to have to scrub the walls now for sure…"

"That's it. We're going back to the surface. This time we're telling the bloody dwarves to hand over all their lyrium; I'm not failing this mission because of this," Ruvena declared.

When we returned to our base with the news, Ser Alrik had disappeared. Frustrated, Ruvena asked the other templars in – training if they had seen him.

"But we have the lyrium! We used all our coin just to get them to comply!" she said.

"You might ask Margitte about the reward," one answered. "She's a good friend of Keran's, and I heard recently that he's been relinquished of all family debt. Keran was neck-deep; there's hardly anyone in Kirkwall capable of dragging him out of his difficulty. Maybe the dead smugglers were part of an inside job…"

"What are you suggesting?" I retorted. "My brother's got enough trouble as it is without going around playing mercenary."

"Ser Karras just told us of being lied to by a certain _mage_. Evidently the missing apostates from Starkhaven did not disappear…are you sure you don't know of any connection between this and the mage underground?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Enough. I wish to see someone in charge," said Ruvena. "Where is Ser Emeric? Surely he's not busy."

"I'm afraid he is dead," answered Moira, a short-haired templar with brown eyes. "He was killed in a dark alley in Lowtown the other night. The only lead we have is a mage gone mad with blood magic – Serrah Hawke was reported at the scene."

My heart sank. _What is my brother getting himself into now?_

"What is going on here?" Cullen arrived at the scene. "If you don't have any business here, leave. Otherwise, carry on."

"Captain, we fulfilled our assignment and brought back the lyrium. We were to report to Ser Alrik as soon as possible," Paxley explained.

"Lyrium? I was not informed of the need for another shipment," Cullen answered, surprised. "In any case he is gone on very urgent duty. I will note your success in the books. Is there anything else?"

"No, Captain," I responded.

I sat in my bedroom that night, my head swarming with thoughts. The lack of compensation for our success was the least of my concerns – if my brother had been framed, there would be no end to future predicament.

As I buried my face in my hands, a light knock on the door prompted my attention.

"May I come in?" a female voice called. "It's Margitte."

"Enter," I replied.

The bushy – haired woman entered, looking rather shy.

"I'm…sorry. It must be really hard for you," she said quietly.

"Sorry about what?"

"You and your brother, of course. I spoke to him the day Keran had his debt repaid; he was the one who helped Keran regain his confidence."

"Really? I didn't know my brother was willing to help templars."

"Yet you have known him since childhood. I know there are mages out there who aren't all power-hungry manipulators, and I think your brother is innocent."

"That's kind of you," I said, unconvinced.

"Really, the Order can do with a little more understanding. Please, just listen to your heart the next time you are called upon to hunt mages. They are not all bad."

"I can do that," I replied as I stood up. "But I will not forsake my duty under personal feelings. I will fulfill my purpose."

"It is good to hear that your conscience has not wavered," she said. "May Andraste be your guide, and remember what I said. Good night, Carver."

With that she exited my room, and I was left to contemplate the silence again.


	7. Chapter 7

Ch. 7

With each passing month, my fortitude became stronger and my blade sharper. There may be no end to this madness between the templars and the rebel mages, but I felt adequately prepared to face what challenges lie ahead. Without a doubt, there are many things I wish never had happened; the discovery of Ser Alrik's Tranquil Solution and the misdeeds of fanatics such as Ser Varnell were poor examples of our Order. The knowledge of their disloyalty to the templar model has only solidified my faith in the Maker, and we must strive to maintain peace in Kirkwall. Within a few months, I had finally become an official member of the Order.

I sat alongside the recruits I had worked with in the barracks one rainy evening, stowing away our weapons and armor as the sunset signaled the end of another working day.

"I still can't believe the accusations against the Chantry. The Qunari are many things, and they are certainly not amicable," Margitte said as she placed her shield in a wooden box.

"Would this have happened if that Hawke was not involved?" asked another. "He hardly goes anywhere without mischief making."

"Nonsense, Ser Varnell was a fanatic. Even the city guard knows that."

"One of our own was responsible for such blasphemous actions? I can hardly believe it," Ruvena added.

Ignoring them, I retrieved the mail from my mailbox and opened it. The letter was from my brother.

"Interesting," I said to myself as I broke the seal and unfolded the parchment.

_Dear Carver,_

_I know it has been a while since we spoke, but I cannot delay and it breaks my heart to bring you this sad news. The mysterious women's disappearances around the city were linked after all to the "Kirkwall Killer". He was a powerful, heartless killer whose motive was to honor the memory of his deceased wife by inflicting suffering on women who bore semblance to her – including Mother. She is gone._

The last line stung like a knife to the chest. I refused to believe it, but my brother would not have divulged in writing meaningless messages. I struggled to continue with the rest of the letter.

_Ser Emeric took faith in this investigation and died pursuing it when none have. I honor his sacrifice, and so should you. Peace be with you, Your Brother._

Now furious, I crumbled the parchment and threw it in the fire. Why would anyone hurt someone as innocent as mother?! Our family's influence in the city had taken its true toll.

"Carver –?" Margitte asked meekly.

"I feel a bit ill. I think I'll get some rest," I said quickly before hurrying away, wondering just how much it would take to brave this new storm.


	8. Chapter 8

Ch. 8

The coming months offered me little time to dwell on the past. With the Qunari threat brewing, our forces had become mobilized with greater frequency to suppress the attack of the "barbaric heathens".

When arguments boiled over to chaos, my squad had been sent to recover citizens trapped in their homes and stop looters during the assault on the city. I knew little of the Knight – Commander's involvement with my brother, who had become Champion of Kirkwall overnight. It seems I wasn't the only one to get ahead.

In the meantime, I heard whispers within the Chantry of mages who had passed their Harrowing become rendered Tranquil out of suspicion of their actions.

"– _the first of the Maker's children watched across the Veil, and grew jealous of the life they could not feel, could not touch. In blackest envy were the demons born."_

Grand Cleric Elthina concluded the sermon and dismissed the morning session. We gathered our belongings and met in the courtyard with the other templars.

"Mages will turn to blood magic given the chance. They simply cannot be treated the same as the rest of us," Ser Martin stated.

"A former apostate foiled the Qunari plot for dominance, and is now our Champion. What would we have done without his magic?" asked Ser Thrask.

"And yet you do not question his power. How else could he have defeated the Arishok without the help of demons?"

"Sadly, the only magic I've ever seen with such capability involved sinister dealings with the Fade…" Ser Thrask admitted.

"The Knight – Captain has tasked us with tracking down runaway mages. Now is our chance to stop their evil influence!"

I knew with the Circle phylacteries destroyed, there was only one answer to the mages' fates. If we did not commit the merciful act of ending their lives, I could not fathom what would justify stamping out their souls through the Rite of Tranquility.

"The Knight – Commander suspects that there are mage sympathizers amongst us, fueling the mage resistance," Paxley commented. "If we don't choose a side, we get the brand."

"Come on. Our orders are clear," I said, ushering them to the gates. "We must do our jobs to protect the citizens of this city. Even the Champion can agree on that."

"…yes. I hope you are right," Ser Thrask muttered.


	9. Chapter 9

Ch. 9

The Knight – Commander's suspicions, it turns out, had been correct. But I had not envisioned that the disparity caused by doubt and the fear of betrayal would drive even our own to acts of desperation.

It was on the evening of my assignment that I would realize too late.

Alone, I approached the run-down residence of a wanted mage in Lowtown, readying my blade for resistance. With a deep breath, I kicked open the front door, and entered cautiously.

"Show yourself!" I commanded into the darkness, wishing I had brought a torch.

All was silent.

Before I could take another step, I felt the ground fall away beneath my feet as I saw the only light pouring in from the entrance of the building swirl into a dizzying array of colors. I felt ropes curled tightly about my waist, legs and chest, and my sword fell out of my hands as my arms became restrained. My cries for help became smothered by an unknown force, and the environment around me had suddenly dulled to a dream-like state.

My confusion was numbed as I slipped into unconsciousness.


	10. Chapter 10

Ch. 10

"…it is the right thing. He will know," a female voice said in the distance.

I felt a sharp pain in my head as the scene before me blurred in and out of focus.

"They will see that she is wrong. We cannot let her take control, not while this city's delicate order hangs in the balance," said another familiar voice, this time a man's.

I blinked several times, realizing that I had been on my back in the sand all this time. The salty air and breeze hinted that we somewhere in the Wounded Coast.

I reached for my sword, but did not find it. As I shook myself awake, my eyes finally met a brief moment of clarity.

"He's waking, Grace!" said a young man wearing Circle robes.

"No, not now!" the female, presumably Grace, responded.

In a moment's notice, my body became paralyzed again.

"Why side with Meredith now? You've shown us everything you can commit to the mages' cause," the familiar voice said to an unknown source, and I realized that the man was Ser Thrask.

Several words were exchanged, of which were barely audible.

"Release the hostage," Ser Thrask ordered after several minutes.

"No. The hostage dies!" Grace retaliated in an angry voice.

Whatever madness occurred after would escape my understanding, as I remained bound on the ground and my senses faded back into blackness.

When I awoke, the fighting had ended as soon as it began. A dark-skinned Circle mage was kneeling beside me, blood trickling from his wrist.

"Wh – what happened?" I stammered.

Then I caught sight of my brother, who stood before me with several others. It took a few minutes for me to fully comprehend the scene, and to my horror, I saw that Ser Thrask had been killed.

"No…this can't be!"

"I warned Grace. I told her the blood magic wasn't worth it," the young mage said.

"Brother?"

"Champion, I assume your involvement was to apprehend these traitors, not join their cause?" Cullen said as he walked over towards us, accompanied with several templar guards.

"Knight – Captain, the Champion saved us. Without him we would surely be dead," the mage professed.

"Cause? Were they working together, the mages and templars?" I asked.

"Take the mage into questioning. The Knight – Commander will know of this," Cullen announced.

Before I could have my questions answered, Cullen and the others walked away, leaving me and my brother. The silence was almost deafening as my mind raced for an answer for the cause of this confusion, but one response was clear amidst the feeling of quiet tension.

"Brother…it seems that I am once again in your debt, and shadow," I said, bowing my head.

Despite my failure that day, I do not regret joining the templar order. Kirkwall needed us, and I vowed that I would not abandon my duty to keep the peace. If the Maker intended a war, then it is our fate to endure.

I knew that the Champion's appearance was not mere coincidence; I had suddenly been thrown into the eye of a storm that would forever change the world, and that was just the beginning.


End file.
